


Stronger Together

by yandeerly



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Conditioning, F/M, M/M, Reader is Deputy (Far Cry), Yandere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-20 07:37:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16132673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yandeerly/pseuds/yandeerly
Summary: Deputy Staci Pratt finds his own way to survive in the aftermath.





	Stronger Together

It was a monotonous routine with him, everything done in a very specific order as per his own request. Enter the Wolf’s Den, approach slowly with a bit of food and water - _make sure you go slow!_ \- and kneel by his side for hours, running soft fingers through the tangled locks of midnight hair, pressing a cool cheek to the scratchy stubble overgrown on his chin, and sometimes just grasping his rough, bruised hands in your own; any sort of touch to help him believe this was _real_ and not some sort of sick, twisted nightmare. 

All the while, he would croon and lay his head back against the wall, quiet mutterings trailing past the caked blood on his lips. You could never hear them quite properly. He always kept Jacob’s bunker key wrapped in a tight fist, scraping the end across the badge of his uniform. The very particular screeching noise it made drowned out anything else and you were always perplexed as to why he did this. Sure, someone who’d been through trauma like he had wouldn’t come out without a nervous tick or two, but why this? The incessant squeal of metal on metal only seemed to grate against your nerves, sending multitudes of shivers wracking down your spine. 

None of that seemed to matter to him. He’d simply draw you closer, sliding one arm around your back and pulling your side flush to his. His head would droop over, grazing against the soft locks of your hair, the movement of his lips never ceasing as he continued to mumble angry words beneath his breath. Hot puffs of air would trickle across your scalp, tickling your frigid skin in a way that always calmed your nerves. Some days you would wonder just exactly who was attempting to heal who. You’d set out to rescue this poor man, save the cheesy grin that once flashed at you in the sheriff’s department, bring the light of amusement back to his bleary eyes, and somehow reignite the flame of sarcasm that used to burn in every word he spoke, but did your own wounds prove too deep? Were you both just sinking further into a dark abyss? Or worse. Were you only dragging him down with you?

The nightmares began when you settled into bed that night. They were like nothing you’d ever experienced before and certainly more terrifying than anything a deranged cult could do to you. They were _blank_ ; a bleak, dark, never ending emptiness. The void was tearing straight into your very core and you could do nothing but brace your blurry, haze filled eyes and stare right back. Screams ripped from your throat, drawn forth by the foreboding dread plaguing your inner most thoughts.

Shadows crept and crawled closer, closer, closer still. They swirled all around, looming over with the threat of locking you away forever in a tomb of fear. Everything was crashing upon you in a manner of seconds and you could only float there, trapped in your mind, frozen in a state of horror. You threw your hands up, instinctually attempting to protect yourself.

And then, you heard it. A shrill scraping. Rusty metal grinding together, ringing clearly through the dusk, penetrating through inky tendrils that nearly robbed the breath straight from your lungs. Your vision overflowed with a luminous beam of white light, lids wrenching open. A pair of ghostly hazel eyes returned the feverish gaze, peering out from the end of the mattress. Words spilled from his mouth like a winding stream, crisscrossing, unsure of the desired direction as his fingers furiously scraped the key. The words on his badge were no longer legible, wiped clean with long, wide scratches carved from the surface.

“ _S-sorry…_ ” he cried out with hushed whimpers, eyebrows drawn together. “ _I’m s-so…sorry…_ ” Anguish tortured each and every curve of his battered face, the scars beginning to dissipate as they healed shut. Vibrancy had returned to his skin, cheeks colored the gentlest shade of baby pink and, yes, the sparkle _had_ returned to his stare but it was shadowed, a ghost of its former self, masquerading as the original.

 _When had he started to look better?_ You searched your thoughts, reaching out for an answer, but none made themselves known. The only thing you could focus on was that damn scraping. It bounced and echoed off the walls of your brain endlessly, dulling your senses, vibrating down your limbs until it pulsed in the soles of your feet. With a jolt, you realized the sensation was from your toes lightly crossing the cold metal floor of your bedroom in the Wolf’s Den. You hadn’t even recalled getting out of bed.

“I’m sorry, please,” Staci was begging, nearly bawling and you hadn’t the slightest clue why. “Please, forgive me. I need you. I need you to **_need_** me.” 

Two strong arms wrapped around your waist, snatching you close the second you drew near enough. Dizzying warmth enveloped the both of you as you melted into the crook of his hip. A trembling, though mildly relieved, sigh bubbled from his lips, crazed fingers sliding up and down every inch of your body while the other kept up that haunting noise that was becoming so familiar, so strangely _welcome_.

He continued to cry, desperately trying to squeeze you closer as if he could meld you both together, his grip tight enough to choke the breath out of your strained lungs. “I think I broke you. I needed you so bad but I think I-” his words were cut off by a strangled sob, palm flying up to his mouth in an attempt to suppress the sounds from growing any louder. 

Large, heaving tremors dragged from his chest as he clamped both hands on either of your shoulders. Lightly, he pushed you off him, just a bit, not enough to expel the boiling body heat simmering amongst you two. Wild eyes examined the ones that glimmered back at him so hopefully, so _adoringly_ , and the **neediness**! The pure, unabashed longing sweltering only for him, dear God what had he done?! He couldn’t stop himself. This was what he had wanted all along. He was well aware he’d been emulating that damned herald of the mountains, preserving the soldier’s spirit even long after his passing from this mortal world.

You tilted your head at him, curious, unaware of the battles Staci fought inside his mind even now. Blinking your eyelashes in the most endearing manner, you tried to nuzzle your way back to his side, the spot where you belonged, where you felt most comforted. His palm flattened against your chest, holding you at arms length, but he did not cease scratching the bunker key against his badge. 

“S-Staci?” you let out a slight whimper, even stomping your foot with a bit of frustration. “What’s wrong?”

He searched your gaze long and hard, a knot of conflict constricting in his stomach. He’d never expected this to work _so well_. He thought it wouldn’t even work at all, yet here you were, softening like butter in his waiting hands.

 _This was wrong._ So wrong. But he **loved** it. _Every_. _Single_. _Second._

His palms flew to your cheeks, grasping with a sudden desperation, and his lips took yours, claiming, drawing every bit of affection, lapping it up greedily, all for himself. You were his. No one else’s. There wasn’t a single soul alive who could provide more for you than him, understand you to the fullest like he does, or love you with the same sincerity. Every bit of you belonged to him and him alone. He’d consume you whole until there was nothing left.

At last, he pulled away, leaving you gasping for air and nearly sputtering. The slender fingers that curled into your hips were suffocating, seeming to siphon the life right out of your bones. They coaxed you in, leading your shivering form straight where you belonged and where you would remain for as long as needed. You don’t know exactly why, but the thought brought pricks of tears stabbing at your lids. You assumed they were out of joy and allowed them to flow freely, streaming down your cheeks and pooling at the corners of your lips as you forced them to turn up in a smile. The wet droplets were wiped away almost instantly by the fabric of Staci’s uniform when he gripped the back of your head, burying your face deeper into his chest.

“ _Shh_ ,” he cooed gently, lovingly, stroking through your hair with light, repeated motions. “You’ll be ok as long as we’re together. It’s better this way. You’ll see.” Impossibly, his hold tightened even further, much like the constricting restraints of metal shackles. “We’ll be strong. **_Together_**.”

* * *

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